


Behind closed doors

by SnowHeart



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's not huge but it's there so..., flatmates AU, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:04:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowHeart/pseuds/SnowHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John Laurens, open the door or so help me I’m going to shove an entire baguette-“<br/>His rant was cut off by a loud crash from the other side of the door. Alex frowned. “John? You okay in there?”</p><p>In which John is being scarily quiet and Alex tries and fails not to panic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind closed doors

**Author's Note:**

> I am supposed to be writing an essay on Hamilton. An actual important, academic essay that'll get me into university. And this is what happened.
> 
> Prompt from TeasTakingOver (It kind of gives it away if I tell you what the prompt is but go check them out...)
> 
> Warnings for brief mentions of depression and self harm. It's not a big part of the fic but it is in there

 

 **A.Ham** : Who the fuck is in the bathroom? I need to shower you guyyyys

 **Angel** : Why did you put this on the group chat? Most of us don't even live in the shithole you call a flat

 **A.Ham** : And I’ve never bumped into you in our kitchen at five in the morning with no explaination?

 **Angel** : …

 **Angel** : Good point

 --

Alex smirked in satisfaction at Angelica’s reply and pocketed his phone. But that still didn't answer the question of which one of his arsehole flatmates was hogging the bathroom this morning. They had a system for this very reason; ever since they had ganged up on Laf and vetoed his morning pampering sessions, you had fifteen minutes to sort yourself out and then it was someone else’s turn. But Alex had been waiting for close to twenty-five now. It was a Saturday, at least, so he wasn't going to have to choose between being late to class or turning up looking like he’d been run over and dealing with Jefferson’s smirks all morning. But still, he really wanted a shower.

“Come on, open up!” he yelled, banging on the door. 

“Is their any reason you’re shouting so early in the morning?” Laf complained, sticking his head around the door. “It’s the weekend.”

“Herc or John won’t get out the bathroom.”

“Not me,” Herc said, emerging from his own room with a frown. “But I’m with Laf on this one. Shut up.”

Alex ignored his friends’ lack of sympathy in favour of focusing on the fact that he at least knew who the culprit was. He continued pounding on the door. “John Laurens, open the door or so help me I’m going to shove an entire baguette-“

His rant was cut off by a loud crash from the other side of the door. He frowned. “John? You okay in there?”

There was no reply, and when Alex repeated the question he was met with the same silence. Well that couldn't be good. 

“Shit,” Herc muttered, as he and Laf came to stand with Alex outside the bathroom door. “John? Come on dude talk to us!”

The three of them stood there for some time, alternatively yelling through the door with no response and trying to clamp down on a growing panic. It wasn't until Laf, hair still a wild mess from sleeping, yelled “John! Do we need to call 991 or something?” that his growing stress snowballed into cold dread.

“Guys, did John seem okay last night?” he whispered.

“I think so.” Herc replied. “We were just here watching the game and screaming abuse at the TV. You know, the usual.”

“And he wasn't acting weird?”

“What are you thinking?”

Laf paled in understanding. “You don’t think he’s…?” He trailed off, and the three of them stared at the locked door in horror. They didn't talk about it often - why dwell on the past, after all - so it was sometimes easy to forget how far John had come since they’d all met. You wouldn't have any idea by the way he acted, energetic and cheerful and always on board with Alex’s mad ideas, but he’d been fighting depression for years. He’d never told them, and it had taken Alex walking in on him with a blade in hand and fresh cuts on his thigh to get him to open up. Alex had screamed at him that night, even as helped stop the bleeding, fear and shock bubbling out of him in pure fury as he demanded an explanation. In the end, it was Lafayette’s soft words and Herc pushing a cup of tea into his hands that got John to talk. And then do some crying of his own. And then finally accept their help.

He didn't do that anymore, he promised, although that didn't stop the other three checking the flat for blades whenever they got the chance. Could they have missed one? Could they have missed the signs that he was getting bad again? Alex suddenly wanted nothing more than to throw up.

\-- 

 **Herc** : Come on John open the door. 

 **Peggster** : He’s still in there? Do I need to come and break a door down?

 **A.Ham** : John please I’m not pissed i promise i was joking about the baguette

 **TJeffs** : Baguette? Do I want to know?

 **LaffyTaffy** : You really don’t

 **Johnnyboy** : Just go away guys im fine

\-- 

Alex looked at the latest message and didn't know whether to be relieved that John had finally answered or pissed that he was ignoring them.

“Whatever’s going on we can deal with it!” he yelled. “Please just let us in!” Silence. “Right, this is ridiculous, I’m breaking the door down!”

Ten seconds, an undignified thumping sound, and jarring pain in his shoulder later, Alex amended his threat. “I’m calling Peggy and she’s gonna break the door down!”

“And loose the safety deposit? I have a better idea.” Laf muttered, and then he was gone, running out the flat door and the other two could only watch him go in confusion.

 --

Laf had to hand it to himself, his plan was going brilliantly right up until the moment he fell through the window. Perhaps it was a little worrying for their security that he could so easily climb up the fire escape, but right now that was a blessing, as was the fact that their bathroom window was open. He positioned himself on the windowsill, took a moment to plan his manoeuvre, then elegantly face-planted onto the shower mat. John jumped up in shock, an impressive feat considering the small size of the bathroom. “What the fuck, Laf?” he demanded.

Lafayette however was too busy staring at the scene before him. Of all the horrors he had been imagining… well, he hadn't even come close to the truth. “Mon ami…” he whispered. “What have you done?”

 --

 **LaffyTaffy** : I’m afraid we cannot open the door right now.

 **A.Ham** : What

 **Herc** : Open the fucking door right now

 **LaffyTaffy** : John is fine, I promise, but the door has to stay closed

 **Herc** : You’re shitting me

 **A.Burr** : Oh my god stop texting each other. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re all in the same flat?

 **A.Ham** : Point?

 **A.Burr** : I don’t need to listen to your argument from the other side of town. Just talk like regular humans

 **A.Ham** : Can someone please teach Burr how to turn text alerts off

 --

“Come on guys, this is bullshit!” Herc yelled. “Just let us in!”

“Can’t do that! Why don’t you guys go take a walk or something?”

Alex was about to reply that no way in hell was he going to just take a walk when there was another loud thumping from the bathroom, followed by a voice that could only belong to John yelling “Motherfucker!”

“Seriously you guys, I’m about three seconds from calling Peggy.”

“Or I’ll just break the damn thing down myself!” Herc added. “It’s been hours and I’m done screwing around.”

They heard the sound of a whispered debate from the bathroom before John said “Okay, I’ll let you in. But you can’t be pissed, okay? This was an accident and I’ll fix it.”

“Whatever, just open the door!”

A pause, and then the sound of the latch clicking. The door opened a crack and John’s anxious face appeared in the gap. “Carefully, okay? Just, come in quickly.”

Alex and Herc inched into the bathroom through the tiny gap John had opened the door, and he slammed it shut behind them. Alex looked him up and down, and was relieved to see that John looked fine. No blood, no injury, no sign of anything wrong other than the stress written across his face. But a moment later he took in the rest of the room and forgot all of that. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, trying and failing to find the words.

Herc had no such problems. “What the fuck?” he asked.

Because there was no other way to express the fact that suddenly, their bathroom was full of tiny turtles. Alex gaped. There were eight of them swimming around in the bathtub, another three in the sink, and water splashed all over the floor. And in the middle of the chaos, John smiling sheepishly. 

“Surprise.” he managed eventually.

“Surprise?” Alex echoed.

“Okay, I know you said no more turtles ever after last time. I know you made that point very clear.”

Alex groaned at the mere mention of _last time_. He’d come home from the library to find John’s new pet cheerfully chewing its way through his stack of textbooks, his poptart stash, and his favourite jumper. The turtle hadn't stayed much longer.

“Just hear me out.” John continued. “I found the eggs down at the beech, about ten seconds away from being eaten by a family of racoons. I couldn't just leave them there, and how was I supposed to know they'd all hatch at once and suddenly there’d be twelve turtles in our bathroom?”

“Eleven.” Herc corrected.

“Twelve.” John gestured to the windowsill, where the smallest turtle was nestling inside his snap-back. “Meet Frances.”

“Frances?”

“You named them?”

“Jesus John, we thought you had an obsession before…”

“I’ll take them to the shelter this afternoon.” he promised. “I might need a hand though?”

Later, when the four of them were trying to sort the twelve turtles into individual cardboard boxes, Alex pulled John to one side.

“Don’t you dare do that again.”

“I said I was sorry! I don’t know what your big thing against turtles is anyway.”

“Not the turtles! I’m talking about you locking yourself in the bathroom and not talking to us. You scared me out of my mind! I thought…” he trailed off, biting his lip, but there was no need to finish his sentence. John’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“You thought I was cutting again? I told you Alex, I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“I know, but what was I supposed to think when you don’t reply? I was picturing you lying on the bathroom floor, and-“

“Hey,” John wrapped his arms around Alex and he relaxed into the hug with familiar ease. “It’s okay Alex, I’m okay I promise. I’m so sorry, I didn't even think…”

“It’s alright. Just please talk to us next time.”

“What, next time I accidentally adopt twelve turtles?”

“Oh God, no more turtles please?”

“How about some terrapins?”

Alex groaned and John laughed, and just like that he knew they were going to be okay.

\-- 

If John sniffled a little bit at the shelter when they handed the turtles over to a much better home, no one-called him up on it. And if, when they were driving home, Laf noticed the tiny lump under John’s shirt and the fact he was trying to subtly feed lettuce to it, he didn't say anything either. Far better to let Alex find that one out for himself.

 --

 **A.Ham** : Who the hell ate all my poptarts?

 


End file.
